Still falling for you
by YulianaHenderson
Summary: "'Hey beautiful,' she stated as she answered his call. He smiled, and he felt proud to have her call him that, that he was the only one who was lucky enough to have her beside him." Character death, be warned! Established Jisbon, rated T to be sure. Starts out angsty but turns a little happy eventually.


**A/N: Alright! I really enjoyed writing this, even if it's extremely angsty at times, but I like how this turned out. I know it's a long one, but I didn't want to split it up. Now, you can have the entire thing all at once. Hope you'll enjoy!**

 **Warning: actual character death. If you don't like that, don't read!**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

* * *

 _ **'Still falling for you'**_

He couldn't help calling her when she texted him that she would be on her way home. His calculations told him she couldn't be in her car yet.

"Hey beautiful," she stated as she answered his call. He smiled, and he felt proud to have her call him that, that he was the only one who was lucky enough to have her beside him.

"Are you driving?" he had to ask, because he didn't want his neediness to result in her folded around a tree.

"No, I'm good. On my way to the parking lot." He practically heard her smile. "Why are you calling?"

"I just wanted to tell you how much I love you."

He heard her giggle.

"Patrick, I'm literally on my way home. I will be there any minute."

"I know. I just couldn't wait any longer."

His heart was so full of love he felt it running out of every pore in his body, and every day he knew he was the luckiest man alive, to be married to Teresa Lisbon.

"Alright." She paused. "I love you too."

"Drive safe, okay?"

"I always do, you know that."

"I know you do, but do other people drive safely, too?"

"Whatever. I'll see you in a bit."

"Can't wait. Oh, Teresa?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

She giggled again, and his heart burst imagining the smile she was sporting on her beautiful face.

"I love you too, Patrick."

And so his waiting commenced for his love to come back home.

~...~

It was a ten minute drive from her work to their little cabin. Considering she had told him she was on her way to the parking lot, he wasn't worried yet when after fifteen minutes there was still no sign of her, but after twenty minutes, he was getting panicked.

Where was she? It wasn't such a long drive and she knew the road well, so she should have been there in no time at all.

He finally heard a car arrive after thirty minutes, and he let out a sigh of relief. Thank God. She was home.

Yet his heart slammed down when he heard another car accompany the first one, and lead filled his shoes as he walked out their cabin, onto the front porch, he didn't want to go outside but he had to. His suspicions were confirmed when he was met by two pairs of police agents, all of them having plastered on that all too familiar sympathetic expression that he had seen Teresa wear in their countless of years working for the CBI.

It couldn't be. This was a big misunderstanding, or a sick joke, but whatever it was, it was not real.

 _Tell me it's not real._

"Mr. Jane?"

Jane felt he couldn't get any sound out of his mouth, so he helplessly nodded, his hands shaking.

"Austin PD. I'm Officer Martin. We have bad news for you."

"No," he shook his head. If he didn't listen to it, it wouldn't be real, and he didn't have to face the very real nightmare that was about to fall over him.

"It's about your wife."

Tears were burning in his eyes. It couldn't be, it really couldn't. He had just talked to her!

"She passed away."

"No, you're kidding me."

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Jane. Please, take a seat, we will go over the details."

He didn't want to hear the details. He didn't want to be here, at their shack all by himself, with strange people bearing terrible news. He wanted to be with Teresa, wanted to be in her arms, safely wrapped around him, her slightly swollen belly with their unborn child between them.

He listened to the details but he didn't register any of it. He faintly remembered the officer telling him that it hadn't been her to blame for the accident, but had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. It didn't matter.

She was gone. His second chance, his new shot at happiness had been cruelly taken from him.

His heart was numb and he couldn't feel anything except for a gaping hole in his soul where she used to be, loneliness invading his entire being.

She was gone.

~...

He had called Kimball Cho as soon as the officers gave him time to deal with the news, and he promised he would be with him as soon as possible. Jane needed somebody to prevent him from doing anything rash - after all, she had been his only reason to live these days. With her gone, he didn't know what else to do.

Cho arrived and took over, and Jane felt like throwing up, the reality of the situation dawning on him. He instinctively wanted to talk to Teresa, have her cheer him up with her smiles, but he soon realized that wouldn't be happening, not anymore.

He cried out and doubled over, retching until he didn't have anything left in him to throw up.

Cho made him sit down and kneeled in front of him. He didn't do much except for showing Jane that he was there to support him.

How could this have happened? One moment, she had reassured him that she was going to be home, and the next, she was gone. _She's gone._

He didn't know what to do next. But he did know he would never be the same again.

"She is pregnant," Jane managed to whisper, and hoped that they could hear what he was saying. "What about the baby?"

When the officers crushed his last bit of hope by telling him neither Teresa nor the baby had survived the crash, he blacked out.

~...~

He regained consciousness, and he found himself in bed, his head hurting, and he was a little disoriented at first, but when he turned onto his side, reaching for Teresa on her side of the bed, he was thrown back to reality.

 _He felt small hands on his cheeks, and they pulled him out of his sleep. He instantly smiled and opened his eyes, looking straight into the eyes of his beautiful wife._

" _Are you awake?" she whispered._

" _I am now."_

 _She smiled and snuggled into his side, and his hands snuck up into her long dark hair._

" _Good. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you."_

 _He kissed her forehead and she pushed even closer._

" _You woke me up for that?"_

 _She nodded and kissed his neck, and it sent shudders down his spine._

" _Well, if it's worth anything, I love you, too."_

 _She sighed, contently. He would never get enough of telling her, and feel her react to his words. He would love her until the end of days._

He turned onto his stomach buried his face into her pillow, breathing in her scent, and tears escaped his eyes until he was downright sobbing.

He wanted to be strong, but this entire situation was still so unreal to him. He had trouble believing that she was no longer there with him, didn't want to accept that fact. He knew she would want him to be strong, but without her to support him, he didn't see the point in soldiering on.

~...~

He had wanted to see her one last time, to confirm in his head that it was true, but Cho had warned him not to do so. The officers had told them there was not a lot left of the car, considering it had burned down to a crisp, and it didn't look pretty.

Jane decided he didn't want to see it. Images of Angela and Charlotte, butchered down in their house, flashed before his eyes, and he was reminded of the fact he never forgot that picture, and never would. He didn't want to taint his memories of his Teresa by seeing her lifeless body, wanted to hold on to the image he had of her in her mind.

So he didn't go to the crash site, but he asked Cho to describe what it looked like, leaving Teresa out of the picture.

She deserved better, and he should have protected her more. Now, he was here, alone, in their shack, and she would never come back.

~...~

" _Patrick?"_

" _Hm?"_

" _What would you do if I would die before you?"_

 _He looked up from the blueprint he was inspecting and looked at her. She was sitting on a table in a faraway corner, her legs crossed and her feet swinging in the air a little._

 _He frowned. "That's a heavy subject. Why do you ask?"_

 _She sighed. "I saw what the last time did to you. I don't want you to throw everything away because I'm dead."_

 _Why did she bring up this topic, now of all times?_

 _Yet he didn't need to think long._

" _I will probably not survive long without you. But… with our little one, I have to. I will give them the best kind of life I can give them."_

 _She nodded and got up, walking towards him. He turned so he was leaning against another table with his back, facing her._

" _I know it might be difficult, but… just try to be happy then. Please? I want you to be happy."_

 _He pulled her towards him, one of his hands resting on her swollen belly, and he kissed her forehead._

" _The world is so beautiful," she whispered. "I know you can see that without me."_

" _Teresa, I will try my best to be happy. I promise. But now you need to stop thinking like that. You won't die yet. I won't allow you. Okay? Now come here."_

 _He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close._

" _I love you."_

 _She smiled against his neck and planted a little kiss there, making him shudder a little._

" _I love you, too."_

~...~

He had attended the funeral but only because he wanted to honor her life. She had been the best thing that had ever happened to him, so the least he could do was go to her funeral, even if he knew these were more for the living than the dead.

He found he couldn't cry, not anymore. He had cried in the build up to the funeral, but now that they were here, and he saw her coffin with her picture on it, all he could do was think of how unfair all of this was. She was such a good person, and she had never done anything majorly wrong in her life.

Perhaps she had been born for misfortune. To have died in the same way her mother had, and to have fallen in love with him. He had caused her an unnecessary amount of heartache over the years they had known each other, and he should have been a better friend for her. Yet he could rest at night knowing that she knew how much he loved her, and still did.

He looked at her coffin again. He hadn't looked at her body at all, standing by his opinion from before, but he had heard that she had been near identifiable. The car had lit up and exploded, painting a graphic enough picture of what might have been the case.

It wasn't fair. She was pregnant. She would have been an amazing mother, and she deserved to be one. He knew she would have loved their child unconditionally. He wished he could have witnessed her holding her baby, and that she could have experienced everything that came with having a baby.

He let the loneliness wash over him when people paid their condolences to him, even though he knew he wasn't really alone - the team, old and new, was standing next to him, supporting him. Grace was standing beside him, and he felt he appreciated her presence, all of them, every single one. They were his friends, his only family.

"You don't believe in the afterlife, right?" she asked him.

He shook his head.

"I do," she started. "Well, I believe that she's somewhere good anyway. She was a good person."

"Yes she was."

She was silent for a while as more people shook his hand, showing sympathy. He didn't really care about their emotions, but he knew Teresa would scold him for being angry at them. After all, he wasn't the only one grieving.

When everybody had left and only the team was present, Grace turned to him and put both her hands on his cheeks.

"Please, don't do anything stupid."

He could see the sadness in her eyes, and he realized she most likely focused more on keeping him alive than grief her own loss.

He sighed.

"I won't."

"And if you need anything, you can always call me, okay?"

"Okay."

She broke. She tried to hide it by coughing but the tears overwhelmed her, and he reached out to wrap his arms around her.

"I miss her so much. And I feel so bad for you and I don't want you to do anything stupid."

She cried in his arms, and her sadness mixed in with his, intensifying his emotions, and he fought hard to keep his tears at bay, but he couldn't. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, and he buried his face into her hair, preventing anyone from seeing his expression.

It just wasn't fair.

~...~

He had thought about killing himself. Now that his light was gone, he didn't see the point in remaining in this cold world, but he remembered what Teresa had told him a while ago - she wanted him to be happy. She wouldn't want him to give up. And even though he knew he would never be able to be happy again without her, he would honor her wishes.

He needed help with this, however, knowing he couldn't do it alone. He got into contact with an old coworker of Sophie Miller, Stephanie Puth, and he wasn't surprised she knew exactly who he was. She accepted to help him, and he found himself in her office a few days after Teresa's funeral, his soul broken but determined to keep going on.

"How are you doing, Patrick?"

He didn't respond to that question, because it was a stupid one. How did she think he was feeling?

"Of course. Stupid question." She scribbled something down in her notebook, and looked back up. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

Those words meant nothing to him, it wasn't going to bring his Teresa back to him, but he realized that in order for her to help him, he might have to compromise. So he decided not to tell her off for having uttered those meaningless words.

"Thank you."

"Tell me, Patrick. What is it that you want me to help you with?"

He heard Teresa's words in the back of his head - she wanted him to be happy. He didn't want to disappoint her, wanted her to look down at him from wherever she was and feel proud of him.

So he opened up. It was the only way to deal with the pain.

"I don't know what to do without her. She kept me grounded and gave me a purpose in life, but now that she's gone, I don't know what to do. I want to scream and cry but it won't bring her back." He rubbed his upper lip with the side of his index finger, the movement calming him down a little. "I've thought about killing myself, to be with her, but it will disappoint her, I know."

"So you want to prove yourself to her, even now?"

"I guess. I just want to find a new purpose… she would want me to be happy."

And she understood, thankfully. She didn't force anything up on him, but instead merely talked with him about his sadness, and he cried, but he felt less ashamed about his tears this time around. Dr. Puth made him realize that it was okay to cry, and that it was okay to tell people that he was not okay. People would understand.

When he was on his way to their little cabin later that day, he passed the crossroads where the accident had happened. It was the first time he had been there since then, and he got shudders down his spine, especially when he saw a small collection of flowers on a corner, commemorating her.

It gave him a feeling of victory, seeing that so many people had gathered in her honor, that she was loved and missed by so many. She was special, his tiny Teresa, and she changed everybody she crossed paths with, for good.

He bought a bouquet of the prettiest flowers he could find, but he didn't leave them at the corner of the street, but instead took them home with him.

Home. It still was his home. Her presence lingered there, some of her belongings still in place. Her toothbrush, her clothes, jewelry, make-up.

He looked for a picture he knew he had, which featured her. It had been taken on one of their dates after they had gotten married, and he had taken her to a spot close by for a picnic, taking his camera with him so they could make some pictures. And they had, photographing each other, and afterwards he had printed his favorite without her knowing. He had always planned to frame it but had never had the time for it.

So now he framed it, putting the bouquet next to it, looking at the little scene he had created. The frame was in the right spot so she could look over the entire room, and it gave him a sense of comfort.

He laid down in their bed and turned to his side, facing her side of the bed. For the first time, he didn't cry, just brushed his hand over the empty spot.

The pain was still there, but he could breathe past it now. He knew the pain would never leave, and there would forever be a hole in his heart the size of hers, but he would keep going. For her.

~...~

He dreamed that night, like he always did, about her. This time was different, however.

In the dream he had walked into the bedroom and had seen her on the bed, peacefully asleep. He had cried out and dove beside her, waking her up, and he had pulled her into his arms.

"Teresa," he had whispered. "I thought you died."

She had looked into his eyes and had put both her hands on his cheeks, rubbing her thumbs over his lips.

"I did," she had replied, "but I couldn't just leave without saying goodbye, now could I?"

She had kissed him, and he could have sworn the warmth in his lips was real.

"I'm so proud of you, Patrick," she had whispered, and had smiled, and when he had woken up, he felt so filled with love that he could face the entire world, could last on that feeling for years to come.

~...~

" _Will you ever finish this thing?" she teased, her fingers in his side, while he tried to finish placing a wall._

 _He looked over his shoulder, making sure he wouldn't drop anything as he did._

" _Not if you keep interrupting me like that."_

 _She smiled and slipped around him, her arms sneaking around his waist._

" _What… me, distract you? I could never."_

 _He returned her bright smile and kissed her lips, knowing he wouldn't get a lot of work done like this._

" _I need to have our home finished before our little one comes, though."_

 _She took one of his hands and put it on her lower belly._

" _That will still take some time. Come outside. It's such a nice day."_

 _And he followed her, like he always did, not being able to resist her charm._

~...~

"You will get a lot more responsibility, a routine, maybe even some social networks… you don't _have_ to, but as your therapist, I think it might be a good idea to at least try."

She didn't need to explain, however. Because as soon as Jane laid eyes on the adorable little pup, he was in love.

"I'll do it."

"Good. You have to walk him at least four times a day, and they have to be-"

"Thank you, Stephanie," he whispered, not needing to hear more. He brushed his hands through the dog's dark strands of hair, tears in his eyes.

It wasn't the same as having Teresa with him, but at least he wasn't alone any longer.

"You may take him with you everywhere. He's your service dog, that way you get an exception."

He lifted the dog and put his nose against the dog's, and the little fellow sniffed his face.

Jane could get used to this.

~...~

He had gotten all the necessary items to take proper care of a dog, and had then returned home.

That evening, he had tried to keep the little pup in his own bed, but it had been Jane who had given him permission to get onto his bed.

As they snuggled into each other, Jane felt a small smile spread on his lips. He ran his hands through the strands like before, and was almost reminded of Teresa's beautiful hair.

It wasn't the same. But having somebody - or, some _thing_ \- beside him felt good. For the first time since her death, he wasn't alone at night.

~...~

It took him a few months to finish renovating the cabin, but he was determined to do so, even if it would take him years. It gave him something to do anyway, and he needed to stay occupied.

When he finished, he sat down on the side of the lake where he had proposed to Teresa, but now, he was accompanied by his buddy Pascal.

Pascal jumped up against his side, and Jane patted his back, smiling a little.

"What do you think, bud?" He looked down at Pascal, and was met by enthusiastic licks that made Jane's smile spread out. "Looks good, huh?"

Jane knew Pascal was only enthusiastic because he had taken sweets with him, but he liked seeing his little pup so happy. Then again, Pascal was not so little any more, and Jane could hardly lift him.

He looked back at the cabin. It looked good, and he was proud of himself. It had felt like it had taken forever, but it was finished. He knew Teresa would have loved it.

For the first time in a while, he felt sadness wash over him again, that familiar feeling he had gotten used to feeling, but now he knew that Pascal felt it, nudging his side. As tears escaped Jane's eyes, Pascal tried his very best to keep him company.

"I miss her, Pascal," he whispered, and continued to rub the dog's back, taking strength from his presence. Pascal whimpered softly while Jane cried, the two snuggling close. "She would have loved you."

They ate at that spot, looking out at the finished cabin, and Jane realized he needed something else to keep him busy.

~...~

 _He carried her over the threshold of their yet unfinished home, the fabric of her long, white dress dragging over the ground. Her arms were wrapped around his neck to make sure she didn't fall._

 _He put her down as soon as they were inside, not being able to keep his hands off her any longer._

 _His beautiful wife. And he finally could say this with absolute certainty. The ring on her finger was proof enough to the entire world that she was his. His alone._

 _He tipped up her chin with his fingers, and she linked their lips, her arms wrapping around his neck once again, but now she did it to pull him close._

" _I will need to take you on a honeymoon," he whispered as they moved against each other, his hands everywhere on her body, not being able to get enough of her. "Where do you want to go?"_

 _She pulled away and looked into his eyes._

" _Anywhere you're going."_

" _That's not really specific. Europe? Asia? North Carolina?"_

 _She chuckled and shook her head._

" _I will go wherever you want to go." She pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and he complied. "But first, I think we need to finish our cabin."_

 _He bowed down and kissed her neck._

" _Fair enough."_

~...~

He got off the plane, breathing in the first bit of fresh air in hours, and was filled with a childish sense of glee. He looked down and watched as Pascal tried to get used to his surroundings.

"We're not even half-way down the list, Pascal." The dog looked up as he heard his name, his tongue out of his mouth, the corners of his mouth seemed to be tilted upwards. "We have a lot more countries to go, still."

He walked out of the airport, picking up his luggage on the way, and once they were outside, Jane leaned down and took Pascal's head between his hands.

"You and me, buddy," he whispered. The dog reached up to lick Jane's face. "I love you."

~...~

He met some good looking women on his tour through Europe, and the temptation was real. He enjoyed the company of his trusted friend Pascal, but it was different than having a beautiful woman in his bed.

"Hi there, Gorgeous," a tiny brunette said in a thick accent, her hand on his arm. He looked at the point where she touched him, and noticed Pascal was already on edge, his head lifted.

"Hi."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Do you want some company?"

Jane looked down at Pascal, then at the wedding ring that was around his ring finger. Teresa flashed before his eyes, her beautiful smile most prominent, and Angela and Charlotte, too.

He couldn't do it. He was not made for a normal life, there was a curse on him. He didn't want to drag another woman down. They deserved better than that. _He_ deserved better than that.

"I'm, uh, I'm married."

She took back her hand and he saw she was retreating, but she wouldn't fully back down.

"We could just have fun?"

He lowered his head and shook it, letting out a sigh.

"Thank you, but no. I… I appreciate the offer, however."

She nodded and backed down, leaving him alone.

He reached down and petted Pascal's head, taking a sip of his tea.

He got out his camera and took a picture of the little cafe.

He only went places that he knew Teresa would have loved. Therefore, he loved them, too.

~...~

The team awaited him when he arrived at Dallas Airport after half a year of traveling the world, and he wasn't surprised to find Grace van Pelt crying when she walked up to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"I'm so glad you're home," she whispered. "I've missed you so much."

And he had to admit, he had missed them too, had missed this, home. He had anticipated leaving this place to find some relief from the pain, but his suspicions had been confirmed when he had arrived at his very first destination, and it had never left.

He would take the pain with him, wherever he went, because the memories were buried deep inside. He would still be alone - whether he was standing underneath the Eiffel Tower, or walking beside the Thames, she was still dead.

"Don't get me wrong though, I love that you did this but I'm glad you're back in the States."

"I missed you too, Grace." He hugged her back, showing her that he meant it.

He meant everything. He loved them, all of them, because they were his only family. They were there for him when he needed them most, even when they were dealing with their own pain.

"How are you?" Wylie asked, while he petted Pascal, who was happy to get attention, as though he hadn't had that for ages.

"Honestly? I think I'm okay. Or rather, I know I'll be okay eventually." He pulled away from Grace, who ended their hug with a brief caress of his cheeks. Jane looked at everybody else who was gathered there to pick him up. "But enough about me. How are you?"

And he was met by teary smiles and realized that they had worried about him all this time, without telling him, probably not wanting to worry him.

He would show them that they didn't need to worry. He would be okay. For Teresa and for his little makeshift family.

~...~

He documented the pictures he had taken in a photo album, cherishing the memories he had made, and after having thought about the idea for a while, he decided to publish the entire thing, both as a way to share the memories with a bigger audience and as a means to sustain himself, financially.

It sold pretty well. The first copy he kept as a trophy, putting it next to her framed picture, taking a seat and sitting in front of her.

"Look, Teresa," he whispered, tracing her face with his index finger. "This would have been our honeymoon. We could have dropped our little rascal off at Uncle Wylie's place. He would have loved it."

He took the album and opened it, every picture making him relive the memories, but none of them were inherently sad or happy. He had loved touring the world with Pascal, Teresa's presence a constant wherever he went.

"Look, the Sydney Opera House. We went to a ballet performance that evening, Pascal and I. I know you would have fallen asleep if you were there."

He chuckled, and Pascal sat down beside him, putting his head on Jane's lap.

He talked Teresa through all the memories he had made, proud of his accomplishments. He hoped she could be proud of him, too.

~...~

The one year anniversary of her death arrived, and he felt the pain blossom into something that was most unbearable to experience. He hadn't felt like this in a while, but he suddenly felt the need to scream and cry and hit something, not caring about the consequences.

He had taken Pascal out for a walk in the park, and when he knew he was alone, he screamed out as loud as he could, not holding back the tears like he usually did. His knees gave up and he sank to the floor, his hands in his lap, his head slumped down. His entire being was filled with sadness, sorrow, anger, so much anger, he hit the ground, no doubt injuring his wrists, but he didn't care.

He startled when he heard a howl next to him, one he wasn't familiar with, and he looked to his side, finding Pascal crying out at whatever he thought Jane was crying at.

Jane almost choked on his tears, a smile breaking through his grieving mask, but didn't stop crying, let the tears run freely. He chuckled and the dog looked back at him, howling once again, not caring about other people either.

Jane sobbed but wrapped his arms around the dog, his face against his fur, taking comfort out of Pascal's presence like he usually did. He felt like a child doing so, but it calmed him down. After minutes of crying, Jane collapsed onto his back, exhausted but feeling surprisingly better.

He should have done this before.

Pascal licked Jane's face and it felt comfortably familiar, and he sighed in relief, rubbing the dog's head and torso.

"I love you, little buddy," Jane whispered. "I hope you know that."

But as long as Pascal was fed and walked, he felt loved, and Jane knew.

They went to her grave, it was the first time in months he had visited her, and he felt a little ashamed. It was not that he didn't think about her any longer, because she occupied his thoughts every single day. Instead, he preferred to honor her life by throwing her will into his everyday life, and not get stuck in the negative too much.

He had bought flowers for her, the kind he would have bought her on one of their dates, imagining how she would huff and puff at the mere idea of him wanting to spoil her.

He sat down next to the tombstone, crossing his legs and opening the little basket he had brought full of dog treats and Jane treats. While Pascal ran around the cemetery trying to catch a butterfly, Jane got out a sandwich and started eating.

It had taken him a long time to regain his appetite, not seeing the use in eating when she wasn't there to experience the marvelous dishes with him, but he had lost a lot of weight and Dr. Puth had scolded him, reminding him of Teresa a little. He had listened to his doctor, picking up eating again.

He looked at the tombstone.

It was still a little surreal to realize all that was left of his Teresa was right here, underneath this tombstone.

"I'm okay, Teresa," he whispered, lowering his lunch. "I still miss you. I will always miss you. But I can manage the pain now. I wish you were here to see me. I hope you can be proud of me, I know I'm proud of me."

Pascal noticed Jane had started talking, and aborted his mission to capture the mysterious butterfly and walked over to him, but instead of licking him or nudging his side, he dove into the bag, no doubt smelling the treats. Jane smiled.

"Do you think our baby would have looked more like you or me?"

Pascal had found his treats, taking them out and handing them over to Jane. He wasn't such a rude dog to simply tear open the bag. Jane had raised him well.

"I hope it would have been you. I would have loved to see a little you walking around our cabin.

"I finished it. Did I tell you that? It has enough space for our little one, and the two of us. We could even have some more babies if you want."

He opened the bag of sweets and gave Pascal one, who was grateful for being spoiled so much.

"I'm really glad I have Pascal with me. But it's not the same as you. I'm still hoping for a miracle, that you will suddenly walk through the door and this will all be a bad dream. But I know it's not. I know this is real. And I hate sleeping in our bed on my own, but it's a truth I have to live with. I will do it, for you."

He sighed and gave Pascal another treat, rubbing the dog's head, rubbing him behind his ear, knowing he loved that spot.

"I still think about the accident a little, Teresa. I wonder if you suffered much, but every time I think about it, I realize I just want to believe that you didn't. It makes it easier to deal with, knowing that you didn't have pain.

"Pascal is really helping me. He's my savior." He chuckled briefly. "Does that sound familiar, Teresa? I'm always saved by dark haired individuals who don't take no for an answer.

"I really hope you're happy, Teresa, wherever you are. And I want you to know that you don't need to worry about me. I want you to rest in peace, because you deserve it after all the heartache I've caused you. You take a nice long nap, and take care of our little one, too. And wait for me at those gates you know I don't believe in."

He brushed away a little tear that had gathered in the corner of his eye, and Pascal, as always, picked up on it, and as Jane moved to rest his back against the tombstone, Pascal rested his head on Jane's lap. It felt so familiar, and it felt like it went against all of his instincts, but for the first time in a year, he felt happy.

He didn't have Teresa in his arms, he never would again. But she was in his heart. It had to be enough.

His head leaned back and felt a small smile spread on his lips.

"I love you, Teresa Lisbon. I love you so, so much."

Pascal nudged Jane's hand out of the way, and he smiled and rested both his hands on the dog's body. Pascal was distracted a little by another butterfly, which landed on Jane's shoulder.

It was emerald colored.

He looked up at the sky, feeling Pascal wanting to chase the butterfly.

He couldn't help calling that a sign from her. His Teresa.

* * *

 **A/N: So, what do you think? I originally meant for this story to turn out differently but I really liked it like this. I would appreciate it if you let me know what your thoughts were, in a REVIEW! Thank you for reading!**


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